


Thief: What's Closed Can Be Opened

by UnfrostedPoptart



Series: Thief [1]
Category: Thief (Video Game 2014), Thief (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Assault, Death of family, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, House of Blossoms, Mentor/Protégé, PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress, Psychological Torture, Slow Burn, Torture, Trauma, definitely, mental health, past trauma, possibly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:04:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfrostedPoptart/pseuds/UnfrostedPoptart
Summary: Garrett's been away from The City for almost a year it seems, and he's returned confused and aching for answers. He has a strong policy of working alone, but it's possible that he may not be able to find all the answers to his own disappearance by himself. Or maybe losing Erin has made him feel far emptier than even he can bear.Either way, he finds himself intrigued by one lone, stubborn woman with almost as many monsters lurking in her past as the Master Thief himself.She might just be a distraction, or she might just be the end of Garrett.*Cue dramatic music*





	1. One: Garrett

”Halt! By order of the Baron's Watch!”

 

_ I wonder how often that works,  _ Garrett thought as he sprinted through the cobbled streets of Stonemarket, a tail of armed Watchmen not far behind. The thief's mismatched eyes darted left and right as he searched for a way to lose the guards. His steps never faltered, even before his sharp eyes found exactly what he needed. The wiry thief vaulted himself up a wall and hauled himself up onto a window ledge, the guards below stopping and muttering in confusion when their target suddenly disappeared, giving Garrett a moment to slip his pry bar under the window he'd chosen. There was almost a moment of peace before the guards below spotted him again.

 

“There he is! Stop right there! Thief!”

 

Garrett worked the window as quickly as he could while dodging the sharp stones the Watch were throwing his way. One narrowly missed his head and smashed into the window, creating an intricate spider web of cracks while another one caught him hard in the shoulder, just as he pulled the window open and tumbled through into a dark room with a groan. He shut the window, leaving himself in silence for his eyes to quickly adjust to the darkness they were so used to.

 

Garrett's rapid breathing was the only sound in the room while he collected himself and inspected his surroundings. He was in a bedroom, and judging from the soft, feminine scent, it had to belong to a woman. Garrett quickly reminded himself not to be so quick to assume, though- it was The City, after all. Anyone who could afford such a fine perfume, surely could afford jewelry and other glittering things for Garrett to pocket, however.

 

As the Master Thief began creeping over the thin velvet carpet, a low, deep growl vibrated through the floorboards under his leather boots and sent a cold chill up his spine. A sound he knew all too well.

 

_ Dog _ .

 

He stood perfectly still as the massive, white furred thing got to its paws from beside the bed against the far wall of the room. It made its way closer, fangs catching the faint light coming from the window that almost gave the beast a glowing appearance. The shadows the faint light created accented it's eyes and turned them into two endless, black pools that somehow made Garrett's heart race even faster. 

 

“Easy now...” Garrett hissed through this teeth as he backed toward the window. No way he could pry it open again before Rover here reached him, and even if he did, the Watch were still sniffing around outside. Maybe he stood a better chance at taking on the dog.

 

“Skylar, leave it.”

 

A soft, but firm voice cut through the darkness and over the dog's growls, which ended abruptly. The dog turned toward the bed, where the source of the voice lay, and wagged its tail softly as it padded back to its mistress.

 

A wave of relief washed over Garrett as he realized he was safe from the monster dog, but it was short lived. There was someone else in the room, and she seemed to know she wasn’t alone either. The rustling of sheets made Garrett crouch even closer to the shadows as the woman sat up in her bed to stroke the large white dog slowly. He could just make out a silhouette of long, sleep mussed hair and a delicate nose. She suddenly turned to look right at Garrett.

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

“What's it to you?" Garrett snapped without thinking. There was no way he'd tell a potential threat whether or not he was hurt. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of person would ask a question like that to an intruder. A long moment of silence passed before she spoke again, her voice sounding almost as flat as Garrett's.

 

“You broke my window.”

 

Her voice was breezy and matter of fact as patted the sheets beside her and the dog hopped up, immediately dominating the bed as it stretched out over its mistress' legs. The woman ran her hands through its thick fur, but continued to look toward Garrett.

 

“Why are they after you?” she asked, her voice suddenly holding an almost childlike curiosity that made Garrett loosen up just slightly. She didn’t seem like she was going to call out for help, or even get up for that matter.

 

“I'm a thief, and I've just broken into your bedroom. Why are you trying to start a conversation with me?” Garrett honestly couldn't understand how she could be so calm. Who was this woman?

 

“Well, you haven't stolen anything yet, and you seem like better conversation than the usual.”  Her voice was a playful, clear, yet soft thing that Garrett quickly decided he liked.

 

Garrett had to scoff at that. “You get visited by dangerous thieves often?”

 

“Dangerous? Heavens, no.” Her voice lilted toward theatrical and the thief could practically hear the smile in her voice.  “Just you.”

 

" _ Just _ me?” Garret was almost offended, but he couldn’t help but to go along with the woman’s theatrics. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone. “I'm pretty dangerous.” 

 

“Yeah? Well, thief, I am too,” she taunted.

 

Garrett couldn't help the small smile that pinched the edge of his lips. He’d spent a year away from the City and it seemed the women had grown bold in his absence. It was a nice change of pace to the usual shrill screams and flying objects that came from frightened damsels. The only kind he ever really met, it seemed. 

 

“I'll keep that in mind,” he replied briskly before he turned and pulled the window open again. The thief peered down and listened carefully. The streets of the City were silent down below as Garrett pulled himself back through the broken window and joined them once more.

 

~

 

Days had passed since he'd stumbled into the woman's bedroom, but for some odd reason, Garrett's mind kept coming back to her as he recalled their odd conversation over again. It seemed his head was filled with women lately, Garrett noted with a short, dry laugh. First hallucinations of Erin, his dead apprentice, and now this.

 

_ Great. _

 

Garrett was on his was to the Crippled Burrick to see what sort of jobs his fence, Basso had for him today. The thief needed something to occupy his mind, and while he wasn't a drinker, Garrett always found one distraction or another at Basso’s old, run down bar. He found his fence in his usual spot in the storeroom beneath the tavern, and Garrett slipped in like a shadow.

 

“I can see you, you know.”

 

Basso narrowed his warm brown eyes at Garrett where he stood across the room,  glancing down at a newspaper on Basso's table. The aging boxman looked like the usual shifty eyed, back alley trouble maker this side of the City was known for, but he was more than that to the small thief. Basso was family, or at least the closest thing Garrett had to a friend in the world. 

 

“Only because I want you to,” Garrett assured Basso as the boxman turned to a squawking Jenivere, his beloved magpie. She looked just as aged and ragged as her master, and Basso always swore he’d have her turned into a hat, but there was a soft luster to her feathers that revealed just how much care he put into her. Basso’s filthy, dull hair didn’t see anywhere near as much attention, which was probably why he hid the majority of it under a hat most of the time. 

 

“Right.” Basso chuckled. “Well, I've got some jobs, if you're looking for the coin. Best contracts in all the City.”

 

Garrett tilted his chin up as he approached the round man in the dirty top hat, a clear indicator of his interest, and the larger man took it as his cue to begin.

 

“Some old rich broad on the other side of the City thinks her sister in law stole her yappy little dog.”

 

“I don't do dogs.” Garrett shot back irritably. He’d made it known before, and with the encounter with the enormous white dog a few nights prior still fresh in his mind, he wanted to steer clear of anything with pointed teeth. 

 

“Eh, it was a long shot, but I figured I'd try.” Basso chuckled. “How about this?” He turned over a stack of papers sitting on his counter and pushed them over the rotting wood countertop for Garrett to inspect. The thief’s eyes danced over the documents and the fine, delicate lines they were penned in before he gave a slow, subtle nod.

 

“Sounds good.” Garrett murmured, mismatched eyes still on the papers. They remained there a moment longer before he turned to leave.

 

“Garrett! Wait up! I almost forgot.” The man waddled after him quickly. “One more job. This one's for a dear friend of mine, actually.”

 

“I didn’t know you had friends, Basso.” Garrett glanced over his shoulder, a hint of amusement in his eyes. His voice, however, would make anyone think he was serious. 

 

“Her name is Alanie Montonessi. She's seemed to have lost something.” Basso ignored Garrett’s jest and waved off Jenivere as the bird squawked loudly again, quite persistently this time.

 

“I don't retrieve lost items. I'm a thief. I steal.” Garrett stated matter of factly.

 

“Ah, yeah, I'm aware, but she happens to know who has it,” Basso prompted, stopping to make sure he still had Garrett's attention.

 

“Go on.”

 

“She lost a rather valuable amulet to a man by the name of Ridgeway not too long ago. Didn't think it'd be any trouble for someone with your skill set. What do you say, Garrett?” Basso raised his brows.

 

“Details?” Garrett looked like he couldn't care less about the job itself, and in reality, he couldn't. It was just another job.

 

“Ah, well, that wasn't discussed. You'll have to find her and ask yourself. Doesn't live too far from the clock tower I believe.” Basso waved his hand as if to dismiss the small matter and turned back to his counter. 

 

Didn't give details? What was the point of offering a job without giving details? Did this girl want her damn amulet back or not?


	2. Two: Garrett

Turns out that looking for this Alanie Montonessi wasn't as easy as Garrett thought. He had searched half of Stonemarket and had even finished his other job for Basso by the time Garrett decided to ask someone if they knew this woman. He settled on an elderly shopkeeper who’d packed up her stall for the night and seemed to be heading home. She didn’t seem the least bit phased by Garrett. Either she didn’t care who he was, or she was too blind to recognize the man from the wanted posters.

 

“Alanie? The poor lass. Yes, of course I know her. Everybody knows who she is. How couldn't we with that heavy name she carries?” The lady might have seemed genuinely caring if she didn’t seem so prepared to gossip. She had paused for what Garrett could only assume was dramatic effect, and he was growing impatient. He decided to humor her. 

 

“Her name?” Garrett tilted his chin slightly.

 

“You mean you don’t know?” The shopkeeper looked genuinely surprised. “That mad painter, Mr. Montonessi? He murdered his family in cold blood less than a year ago, and got nothing more than a short stay at Moira Asylum! You can’t tell me you haven’t heard of him.”

 

The name was starting to sound familiar the more Garrett thought it over, but he remained silent. The elderly merchant’s watery, grey eyes looked left and right before she lowered her voice and continued. 

 

“And after the lunatic got out of Moira, he went and killed himself! Left that poor girl all alone in the world. But who would want a murderer as a father? He probably did her a favor. ”

 

Garrett pondered on this a few moments.

 

“Where can I find Alanie Montonessi?” Garrett finally asked.

 

“Oh, just a few houses down that way, the one with the blue door.” The lady pointed a trembling, bone thin finger.

 

“Thanks.” Garrett nodded before going on his way.

 

_ Montonessi _ . He knew where he’d heard the name now. Basso had sent him on a job only a few days before to retrieve a painting from the dead artist's home. Not far from where he was now. It had seemed like such a fleeting name in passing, he hadn’t thought it would come up again. He remembered hearing that the artist had killed his family, but he had assumed there’d been no survivors. 

 

Garrett’s feet were silent against the pavers as he scanned the way for guards, his eyes drifting over a wanted poster with a crude, yet impressive sketch of him, the scar along his right eye defined far too much. The reward posted beneath the sketch made Garrett grin.

 

“That’s a lot of zeros, General. You must really want me.” 

 

After his last run in with the Thief-Taker General, Garrett didn’t blame him. He’d made a fool of the man and stolen a prized ring right out from under his nose. It had been a close call, but Garrett had managed to escape with both the ring and his life, and it had made his value to the City Watch skyrocket. 

 

“Huh?  **_You_ ** !”

 

Garrett turned and crouched all in the same motion, eyes zoning in on the guard dashing toward him. It had been silly of him to think he could travel the street like a common citizen for very long before being recognized.

 

“Wonderful.” Garrett groaned. 

 

The Master Thief took off, dodging another guard before vaulting himself up a stack of crates and across a narrow ledge. He dodged a maelstrom of projectiles being launched at him as his dark, catlike figure played against the shadows, merging and morphing with them, making the guards’ aim falter. He hurdled toward a wall and hauled himself up with a grunt of effort, only to have his legs swept out from under him by a large blur that seemed to have come from right behind his legs before Garrett even had a moment to take in his surroundings and plot his next move. The small thief was back on his feet the moment he hit the gravelly roof top, and realized he'd tripped over a dog that was scrambling about frantically.

 

A very familiar dog.

“We've really got to stop meeting like this.”

 

Garrett recognized the soft, amused voice and he whipped around to face her, eyes narrowed and hackles raised. The woman sat beside a door, an easel propped up before her and a paint brush held delicately in hand, poised over a canvas. Her eyes looked just as amused as her tone would imply, but her body language was anything but. She looked guarded and measured Garrett as carefully as he did her. She slowly set down her paintbrush.   

 

“Agreed.” Garrett finally spoke, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. He unfurled from his crouch and took a measured step toward her. His curiosity was getting the best of him; he wanted a closer look at this odd woman whom he could not stop thinking about since the other night. Putting a face to the voice would probably end the intriguing mystery for Garrett so he could move on with his life. 

 

He didn’t get two steps closer before something heavy and sharp clamped down on his leg, ripping a cry of pain and surprise from his lips as he was pulled back onto the gravelly rooftop. 

“Oh! Skylar!”

 

The young woman's voice pierced the air with a gasp and she was scrambling towards both thief and dog to pry the angry canine's jaws from Garrett's leg before the thief did any damage to her companion himself.

 

“I'm so sorry,” the woman fussed in a low voice as she pinched the white dog's nose, making it release Garrett instantly. He broke away from the dog and her mistress quickly and put some distance between them, regarding them both a weary glare before the yelling of the guards below broke the tense silence.

 

“Miss Montonessi?!” one called. “Did I hear you scream? Are you alright?”

 

The woman looked irritable for a second before making her way to the edge of the roof top and peering down at the guards below. The light that came off the guards’ torches touched the woman’s features and reflected off her pale skin as she squinted past it, giving Garrett his first real look at her

 

“Yes, I'm fine. Just some dastardly thief that startled me. Took off already over that way.” She pointed in the direction Garrett had come from and pulled a distressed face. “As if the City isn't bad enough.”

 

“Oh, Miss, don't you worry, we'll have him hanging from the end of a rope before dawn!” one of the young guards called eagerly before a chorus of crunching boots took off in the direction she'd pointed them in.

“If you can catch him,” she muttered to herself before turning back to Garrett, who was now even more interested in the woman before him. 

 

“You're Alanie Montonessi?” The Master Thief pulled his mask off so his words weren't so muffled. 

 

“I am. Did Basso send you?”

 

She made her way toward her easel and picked up her few supplies before heading inside, leaving the door open for both Skylar and Garrett. 

 

While the large dog jumped to her paws and trotted after her mistress, the thief didn't trust the open door much. He crept closer anyway, standing just outside of it in the faint glow of candlelight coming from deeper in the home.

 

“He told me you were looking for an amulet, but failed to provide me with much needed details. Said you could tell me yourself.”

 

Garrett crossed his arms and watched as Alanie Montonessi pulled up her long, brown curls tightly against her head and shed her light coat. 

 

“Ah, yes …” She looked away, her teeth working at her lower lip. “Before we touch on that, I just want to say that I don't have much … but I've been saving up just to hire someone like you. I have maybe twenty, twenty six gold right now. I know it seems like I’m supposed to have more than that, being a Montonessi and all...but it’s...complicated…”

 

Her eyes flicked toward Garrett's slender shape outside her door and the candlelight made her irises shine like emeralds for a brief moment.

 

“But I'll keep saving—”

 

“That's fine.” Garrett suddenly cut her off. “I'll get the amulet for you. Details.” 

 

Alanie's eyes widened with disbelief. Garrett himself could hardly believe he'd said it, but the large round eyes that blinked up at him reminded him of someone else’s for a brief moment, and he just couldn't find it in him to turn her down, which was very unlike him.

 

“Just tell me one thing: what's so special about this amulet?”

 

Garrett looked around as he slowly crept into her home, keeping a wary eye on the dog, but also taking a chance to let his eyes roam over the paintings on the walls. Some of them were quite rare, but the rest of the house was fairly empty; a table, two chairs, a stove. The next room housed a smaller table and two small couches. The home smelled softly of peonies and something sweet he couldn't quite place. The same scent he'd caught when he’d tumbled through her window that night. 

 

“Well, it’s odd, but my father acquired it before … well, before he went bat shit crazy and murdered my mother and brothers.”

 

Her eyes seemed to take on a different light when she mentioned Mr. Montonessi. Garrett watched her from the corner of his eye as he slowly walked around the room, letting his fingers graze the frame of a specific painting on the wall before be turned his head toward another. 

 

“It looked old, and by god, was it beautiful, but there was something dark about it. My father never took it off, and it slowly seemed to drive him crazy.” Alanie had begun to run her fingers through her dog's thick white fur in what looked like a search for comfort. “I want to find out exactly what it is, and I want to destroy it.”

 

Garrett turned completely face her and watched her slender fingers move through her dog’s dense coat. She wanted something back in order to destroy it? Why bother with it at all, then? Was she crazy herself?

 

“Dark how?” Garrett's eyes narrowed.

 

Alanie Montonessi’s eyes locked on Garrett and it seemed they were truly looking at him for the first time. He wasn’t much- slender, yet muscular with pale skin and cool, untrusting eyes, one iris a warm brown, the other a ghostly blue that glowed unnaturally from where he stood in the shadows. As her eyes traveled over his getup they seemed to admire his gadgets and he grew uncomfortable under her stare. Her eyes carefully inspected something over Garrett’s shoulder, and it made him antsy before her eyes widened with an almost childlike wonder. 

 

“Did you make that?” 

 

Thick caramel curls spilled over the Montonessi girl’s shoulder and almost touched her elbow when she tilted her head to get a better look at Garrett’s bow, revealing a thick, gleaming scar on the left side of of her throat. It was a dark, bright pink in color that captured the candlelight and told Garrett that it wasn’t very old. His brows furrowed slightly as he inspected the smooth scar and it seemed to take Alanie a moment to realize what he was looking at. Her hand flew up to toss her long tresses over the angry pink line discreetly and her open, childlike curiosity was suddenly gone, replaced by a guarded wall.

 

“I made it all myself,” Garrett replied, steering attention away from what he’d just seen. “But you haven’t answered the question.”

 

“Right.” The young woman nodded. “Dark. The kind of dark that drives a man to murder his family.” Alanie’s voice was flat and for some odd reason, Garrett enjoyed seeing the hard wall she put up to protect herself. 

 

“I’m going to need more than that. Tell me all you can.” 

 

Garrett leaned back against the doorframe and watched Alanie, studying her carefully. He didn’t need to know anything more than where he could find the amulet, but a part of him just wanted to know.

 

Alanie sighed heavily and wrapped an arm around her torso as if to hold herself together. Her other hand reached out to let her fingertips glide over the wooden table before her.

 

“It just gave off an odd vibe. I swear … it would  _ speak  _ to me. It glowed an odd blue.” 

 

Her brows furrowed as she traced idle patterns on the table pensively, then her eyes darted up to Garrett for a moment before they went back to the table.

 

“My father would babble odd things and I once caught him talking to the amulet, and the thing, it … it would  _ talk back _ . He just couldn’t seem to hear what I did.” 

 

Alanie’s fingers began to claw at the table in soft grabbing motions that might’ve gone unnoticed if Garrett wasn’t watching her so carefully. She seemed to have the need to keep her hands busy when she was distressed. 

 

“It got worse slowly, but one day … he just … snapped. Took a knife to my mother’s throat. He kept yelling something about being late while he carved up my two young brothers. I got home as he was finishing up with them.” 

 

Her jaw set stubbornly as if to fight back the strong emotion and her hand reached up to her throat subconsciously.

 

“He was spewing something at me about it  _ wanting me. _ ” Her nose wrinkled delicately at this, but the distant, intelligent look never left her eyes, as if she was solving an intricate puzzle. 

 

“He give you that scar?” Garrett was enjoying the ease he seemed to have at plucking answers from her, but when her eyes hardened and zeroed in on him, he knew he’d crossed a line.

 

“How about you get the amulet, and  _ maybe _ , I’ll keep answering questions?” 

 

So she’d caught onto Garrett’s interest in her story.

 

“Right. Basso mentioned Ridgeway. Where can I find him?” 

 

“Funny you should ask.” Alanie smiled dryly as she turned to a cupboard and drew a scroll of papers. She spread one over the table to reveal its contents, and Garrett pushed himself off the door frame to lean over the table, brows raised with thinly veiled surprise.

 

“Are these...plans?”

 

“A rough sketch of his place. Best entry points,” she pointed at a few places circled in red as she spoke, “and where I think the safe he keeps the amulet is. He has a dog, but if you get in around midnight, the dog should be out in the yard for maybe a twenty minute time frame that’ll leave you with enough time—”

 

“Save your breath.” Garrett held up a hand to cut her off. “I don’t need instructions on how to do my job. I make my own plans.” Garrett couldn’t help being impressed by the girl’s careful planning, and he recognized the delicate penmanship and linework from the papers Basso had showed him earlier in the night,  but he wasn’t usually one to plan. There were too many unpredictable variables in a single job to focus on a plan. And if he ever followed a plan, it would be one he made himself, not one made from a ‘rough sketch’ and predictions.

 

“Oh, please.” Alanie crossed her arms and raised a brow. “You don’t look like you’ve planned a single heist in your life. You seem like the kind that runs in blind and—”

 

“—and hasn’t been caught yet.” Garrett finished the sentence for her, making her nose scrunch up stubbornly. “Beside, how did you get your hands on information like this?” 

 

“I’m patient, I’m observant, and I have my ways.” She stared Garrett down defiantly and he couldn’t help but note the flash of familiarity in her demeanor. 

 

“Yeah?” Garrett found himself admiring her craft, but no one beat him at either patience or observancy. “Then maybe you should go get it yourself, since you have it all planned out.”

 

It was Alanie’s turn to be surprised and she turned wide, green eyes on Garrett.

 

“You know what, maybe I will.” She spat. 

 

“Then I guess you don’t need me.” Garrett’s tone was icy, but it held a hint of amusement.

 

“I guess I don’t.” 


	3. Three: Garrett/Alanie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry this update has taken forever! I keep wanting to come back to this story, and keep getting new ideas, but life has been so hectic!   
> I'm going to try my hardest to keep editing and posting these chapters, though!

“You did what?!” Basso boomed, making Garrett wrinkle his nose and draw his head up like a displeased cat. It was nearly dawn and the small thief didn’t have the time for this. He’d returned shortly after leaving Alanie Montonessi’s home to collect his pay from Basso and let him know that Miss Montonessi would be solving her own problem, and Basso didn’t seem very pleased about it. 

“She seemed to have it figured out.” Garrett shrugged.

“Garrett, you don’t understand: she’ll actually do it!” Basso looked like he was about ready to pull his hair out and even Jenivere was fluttering skittishly. “Or, try at least!”

“And?” Garrett’s voice was cool and collected, a sharp contrast to the anxious boxman before him. What this woman did or didn’t do was of no concern to him. It shouldn’t be, at least. He hadn’t seen Basso this distraught in a long time, and it was starting to make him uneasy.

“Garrett, you’re going to get this girl killed!” The round man turned on Garrett, eyes round and angry. Genuinely angry, Garrett noted. Another thing he hadn’t seen from Basso in awhile. As rough around the edges as he was, Basso was a man of dry humor who didn’t anger easily. 

“She’s going to get herself killed. She’s not my problem.” Garrett’s posture straightened and he returned Basso’s stare with his own, defiant and defensive. 

“God, damnit, Garrett!” Basso slammed his fist against the rotting wood he called a counter, making Jenivere crow with displeasure. “That girl’s my friend! She’s been the one helpin’ me set up the jobs you run, and you’re going to be the end of her!” The fence was uncharacteristically upset and it made Garrett prickle with more doubt to think he’d made a mistake big enough to bring about this kind of anxiety in Basso. Had he done the right thing, turning Alanie Montonessi’s job down, or had he let his pride get in the way?

The small thief sighed as he realized how stupid that question was.

“Fine, Basso. Fine. I’ll go back tonight and tell her I’ll take the job, okay?”

“Go back now, Garrett! Who knows what that reckless girl will get herself into by tonight?” Basso seemed to have calmed down a tad, but the boxman still looked uneasy as he removed his hat and ran his fingers through his greasy hair.

“I don’t work by day, Basso,” Garrett replied flatly. “The sun’ll be up in less than an hour. I’ll go when last light does.”

“Fine, but you better hope—” Basso lifted his head and stopped short when he realized he was alone.

Garrett usually drew some smug pleasure in the way he could slip in and away from Basso without the sharp eared boxman realizing it, but Garrett was far too irritable and deep in thought to even realize he’d done it. His feet carefully crept around Stonemarket, his ears listening for the heavy boots of Watch guards among the quiet, sleepy eyed footsteps of the first few citizens to rise and meet the coming day. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of the day and all it brought with it; crowds, noise, strangers, always too close for Garrett’s comfort. 

He prefered the night air and high rooftops, in the secret hours and hidden places few would ever know about. 

~

 

Wow, these are comfortable. 

Alanie walked about her room in a pair of worn dark green trousers that hugged her long, slender legs closely and ended somewhere inside the old, thin pair of leather boots she had bribed off a vendor along with a grimy black scarf. She pulled on a dark, long sleeve that was far too large and low around her chest. It might’ve been a nice black at some point, but was now more a dark grey. 

The scarf was large enough to cover Alanie’s chest, wind around her head and even cover her mouth if she pulled it up. She hated admitting to herself that she was trying to mimic Basso’s thief in appearance, but it was the only thing she had to go off of when she tried to figure out what to wear. She looked at her reflection in her bathroom mirror for a long time. There was a total lack of leather, but the concept was definitely there. I look enough like a proper thief, she thought to herself before tucking a few stray locks of hair into the scarf and drawing a deep breath as she thought about what she was about to do. 

If that blackhand can do it, I can too.

Alanie began to make use of the pockets in the trousers, packing lightly. Her long, delicate fingers shook slightly as they moved. They seemed to know something she didn’t, or at least they were better informed. The full spectrum of proper emotions she should be feeling just didn’t seem to be registering with Alanie, and she was well aware of it. 

Chloroform. Old rag. Lockpicks. I can pick a lock … right? Oh, shut up, Alanie. You’re going to learn tonight.

The sun was beginning to set and Alanie rushed herself out of her door after pulling the scarf away from her face and a skirt around her waist to hide her trousers and boots. Best not to raise any suspicions. The last light was dying in the sky above and Alanie needed to hurry if she wanted to reach the Ridgeway manor before curfew. She ducked her head, set a brisk pace, and did her best not to attract attention as she walked through the crowded streets. She wasn’t the only one trying to avoid the nasty repercussions the Watch would bring down if they found someone out after curfew, but it slowly occurred to her that she had far worse things to fear being caught doing tonight than breaking curfew. The thought sent a shudder down her spine as she almost brushed arms with a very tall Watchman, as if the universe were trying to make it very clear that Alanie should turn around and go back home. 

Was this amulet really worth dying over?

The scar along Alanie’s throat suddenly burned, almost as if to scream out the answer she already knew; Yes, this amulet was worth dying for.

And killing for, apparently, Alanie thought bitterly as her mind closed its eyes to the crowded, damp streets of Stonemarket and opened them to a scene that was somehow a thousands times darker than this disease ridden city. A flash of pale, flailing limbs and distant, empty eyes tormented Alanie, forcing her to stop mid stride. She hardly registered the shoving and spiteful words of whoever’s path she’d stopped in. The present didn’t matter when she was in the past, it seemed, and right now, the past had a solid grip on her that she couldn’t shake. 

“Here, here! She’s right here! Take her! It’s what you want, isn't it?” Alanie flinched away from the familiar voice, twisted and warped by hysteria. “Stop your squirming, Alanie! This is a gift! It wants you! It wants you!” The sharp pressure that began to build against her throat threatened to smother her, and for a moment, Alanie was hyper aware of the ragged sounds of her own breathing. She threw her arms out to shove the heavy weight of a body away from her, but it seemed nothing would make the pressure stop. She couldn’t breath. 

“It want’s you! It calls for you! It wants you, and you’re going to be late! Don’t keep it waiting, Alanie, you don’t want to be late!” 

Her feet were moving, but Alanie didn’t notice until her palms met a cool, solid surface. Her fingers grabbed at it like claws, over and over as she fought to shake off the horrible pressure crushing her chest, and the godawful screaming. Her fingers ground down hard on the cold surface and her nails snagged on the uneven texture, probably hard enough to draw blood, but it slowly seemed to shift her away from the dark place she was trapped in. It had to be something about only being allowed to feel one pain at once. That’s how she rationalized it to herself, but Alanie had found, shortly after these episodes had started, that this rhythmic grabbing motion was almost soothing when she felt this trapped. Whether it harmed her or not, it helped, and slowly, Alanie’s mind seemed to grow tired of the memory, and let it lie dormant once more for another day. It flung her back to reality, and it was mostly silent except where her shuddering breaths cut through the dense fog left in the wake of another flashback. 

She was facing a wall in an alleyway, her fingertips raw and nails ragged where they were poised over damp bricks. Stonemarket was a stone’s throw to her right, but it was far emptier than it was before. How long had she been out of it?

The clocktower overhead chimed, lightly vibrating in the pit of her stomach as it marked the hour. 

She had been gone too long, her stomach dropped as she realized it. Was this mission of hers worth it at this point? The streets would be too empty for her to avoid the Watch, but her worries over her own sanity were stronger than her fear of being caught. She shouldn’t be out at all if her mind was going to keep tormenting her like this. It had been almost a year since the incident, and it seemed that time wasn’t healing her the way everyone promised it would. If anything, each one of these episodes left Alanie feeling worse. She would find herself in places she never meant to be, and on more than one occasion, she had confused and frightened some poor sod who’d come too close and tried to help. She felt unpredictable and unsafe in her own mind. It felt like her body was betraying her, and each day she wondered if leaving the house was even safe anymore.

She wondered if Moira Asylum would have been an appropriate place for her.

I should go home and forget this nonsense. She tried to reason with herself. I’ll have Basso find another thief. 

Another thief. The thought didn’t sit well. For months after meeting Basso, all he would talk about was the Master Thief. His friend who could practically walk through walls. No job was impossible. Nothing was beyond his reach. Alanie had admired this thief from Basso’s stories, but actually meeting him was another thing entirely. He was too full of himself, and it made Alanie prickle with anger at the way he’d arrogantly stared down his nose at her.

I can’t go back home now, Alanie decided. She had a thief to prove wrong, and an amulet to get back. She scanned the nearly empty market square before stepping out into it and following two stragglers across. Her eyes wandered up to the clocktower overhead, too tall to even see the face of from right beneath it. She remembered laying down on the dirty pavers underfoot as a child, just to be able to see the top while her mother shopped around the market. Alanie could almost hear her mother scolding her for being so unladylike.

With Stonemarket cleared, Alanie stuck to dark alleys to avoid the Watch patrols. More than once she found herself stumbling over the long, thin legs of a beggar sprawled across the ground, moaning and weeping with the gloom. The illness had struck the City a few months prior to her father’s psychotic break, and it left more bodies than the City knew what to do with. It hurt to see these people suffering, to see the City wither and weep, but Alanie couldn’t stop to try to help these doomed beggars. She would probably be joining them in the body carts of she got caught out here. 

Either she had gotten lucky, or the Watch was lazy for the night. It was nearly an hour after leaving Stonemarket and Alanie could just see the gate surrounding Ridgeway’s home. She crept closer to the perimeter and inspected the building as best she could in the dark. Large, two stories, and a basement if Alanie wasn’t mistaken. The fence was high, but Alanie found a few crates to help her over the iron bars and into the shadows of the large house. There were crates on the ground near the back door Alanie had planned to use as her way in, and it was there that she crouched in wait.

“He’s a paranoid man, that’s why,” came a rough voice from somewhere behind Alanie, making her heart stall with surprise. “Just do your job and take the pay, enough with the questions.”

Alanie crouched lower to the ground and peeked her head around to pinpoint the source of the voice, and heavy bootsteps that followed. She spotted two silhouettes that didn’t seem to be wearing the usual Watch attire, but they definitely meant trouble for Alanie. The two guards were making their way toward where she was hiding and a fresh wave of fear set in when she realized how easily she could be found if she didn’t control her panicked breathing.

“Hurry up, you old mutt.” The grumbling voice on Alanie’s other side drew a gasp from her and her hands flew to her mouth to stiffle any other sound that may come. The door Alanie was waiting for had swung open and a large black dog went flying through like a bat out of hell headed straight toward the guards, who cursed and dispersed to avoid the barking creature.

Alanie saw her opportunity and wasted no time. She slipped through the open door, startling the servant who’d let the dog out. She shoved a damp rag over his mouth roughly before he could yell and they struggled for a moment before the man’s squirming became feeble enough that Alanie could let go of the hold she had on his head. She lowered him to the ground, removing the rag as his eyes closed heavily. 

That went well.

Alanie’s hands were shaking violently as she closed the door so neither guards nor dog could come in without warning her. She glanced at the grandfather clock down the hall, squinting for the time.

11:45. The dog was let out early, she noted as she killed the electric lights overhead and began navigating the house cautiously. Her breaths were still coming in quick, strained puffs as she tried to control her racing heart. She wondered how much of the noise in her head was adrenaline or excitement, and how much was wild anxiety. Alanie’s nails picked at her cuticles as she slowly crept through the home, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She didn’t even notice her restless hands, even when they began nicking off the delicate skin around her nails. She was too focused on trying to quiet her steps. They felt so heavy despite the soft carpet underfoot, and it only served to fuel her dizzying anxiety. Somewhere at the back of her mind, however, Alanie was pleased with herself. The house was almost as she had predicted. While the Ridgeways had had this home made about three generations back, they had hired the same architect as the Dumonts, Boyles, and a handful of other aristocrats, and this designer wasn’t exactly creative. 

Tall, lush curtains looked like humans lurking in the shadows and Alanie had to fight to keep herself calm when she found herself in a room full of them. Each swag of curtain looked like a dark, deadly enemy that could reach out and grab her at any moment. but as she crept past the thick fabric she thought of the thief Basso had sent her way. Another swell of satisfaction swept through her as she imagined the look on his face when he found out she had gone out and grabbed the amulet all on her own. 

That’ll show that cocky bastard not to underestimate me, Alanie thought smugly. Then it dawned on her that she might not see the thief ever again. If she survived this night, successful or not, she had no reason to ever see him again, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about this realization. Sure, he was a shrewd, annoyingly arrogant man, but Alanie had to admit that he was probably the most interesting person who’d ever broken into her home. The thought almost made her laugh. What was she thinking? She’d probably had enough crazy in her life to go thinking about shady men with dangerous lifestyles. She wondered what the Queen of Beggars would have to say about this the next time they spoke. 

Alanie was jolted from her thoughts as something rustled and thudded somewhere further into the Ridgeway home. She froze and sucked in a silent breath. She asked herself who could be awake at this hour, aside from the servant the Ridgeways had specifically for their dog. Heavy boots and a muffled snort indicated a heavy man, but Alanie didn’t stick around to investigate. She ducked into an open room where a few candles flickered and illuminated what should be the study. Alanie rushed to blow them out and nearly choked on the plume of smoke that curled up from the charred wicks. She held her breath to force herself to be silent as a large figure lumbered past the doorway. The way he held himself upright, shoulders squared and chin tilted up gave off authority. He far too large to be Gregory Ridgeway, however, and what little light came in through the windows behind him illuminated what looked to be a uniform similar to the men Alanie had encountered just outside. 

Guard, Alanie cursed under her breath and forced herself to steady her breathing. What had she gotten herself into? Her whole body trembled and her heart was leaping about erratically in her throat. She couldn’t turn back now, she was too deep in danger to do that, but on the other hand, could she actually move forward with her mission? Her hands picked furiously at the skin under the hems of her sleeves as she fought to stay calm and focused. I made it this far, Alanie snapped at herself furiously. I have to finish what I started. 

 

Alanie clenched her fists and crept toward the guard, who’d posted himself outside the door. There seemed to be enough space for one small woman to carefully slip past him, though, so Alanie pulled together the most silent footsteps she could, and began to sneak past the guard in the direction he’d come from. The frightened burglar could feel the warmth and smell the sweat on the guard as she slipped past him, and startled slightly when he continued walking, away from Alanie. She almost sighed with relief and whipped around toward what she predicted was the kitchen, where she would find the storage basement. She tried to hurry, but in her haste she missed the figure coming from the kitchen itself. She came into solid contact with a hard body that let out a grunt of surprise and made a grab for her. A burst of adrenaline coursed through Alanie as her fist shot out before she could fully process that she was in some serious danger. The blow caught the guard across the jaw, making him grunt again, loud enough to make the guard Alanie had slipped past stop in his tracks.

“Melvin?” he called, turning toward the darkness.

Alanie grabbed the stunned guard by the head and practically shoved the chloroformed rag down his throat. He went down faster than the servant, much to Alanie’s surprise, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the fact. The other guard had drawn his sword and was rushing toward her. The sharp steel caught a sliver of moonlight leaking in through the window and glimmered sharply in Alanie’s memory. The Montonessi girl rolled her eyes around wildly as she fought off the fog that threatened to roll over her. Not now! The guard was approaching fast and it was too late for Alanie to find a place to hide. 

“Who’s there? Melvin? By God!” 

The large man almost stumbled over his unconscious companion and Alanie took his moment of surprise to pounce, knocking the man backwards and sending the sword skittering across the marble floor. She pinned the man and shoved the rag over his mouth and nose, holding it down as hard as she could as the man grunted and began to throw punches. One hard fist clipped Alanie’s cheekbone and made her swallow back a yelp as she sat atop the guard, trying to neutralize him. 

It felt like forever before the guard went still, and even then Alanie kept the rag over his mouth just to be sure he was unconscious. Her shaking had somehow intensified and the thought of giving up and heading home while she was was still alive crossed her mind again. 

This was a bad idea …

The stubbornness in Alanie refused to let her give up, though. She had gotten this far, there was no going back now. She got to her feet and re-dampened the rag before stashing the bottle in her pocket again. She drew a slow, shaking breath to try to steady herself and cautiously made her way into the kitchen where a single lanturn flickered on a countertop. Alanie avoided the small radius of light it cast, but she didn’t bother blowing it out. The light it gave off both frightened her and provided a small measure of comfort. It also illuminated the basement stairs she was searching for. 

Each step creaked and groaned as Alanie made her way down into the stuffy, dusty air of the Ridgeway basement. It smelled of damp and cold and Alanie pulled her scarf tighter around her nose and mouth, not wanting to inhale the thick dust that danced in the small amount of light entering through a sliver of a window and outlined the shapes of crates and barrels stashed here. Some lay open and their contents were mostly kitchen utensils and stored ingredients, but toward the very back of the cramped room, set into the wall was a small safe. Exactly what Alanie was looking for.

Time to learn how to pick a lock.

Her hands trembled as she navigated the crates and approached the safe to insert her lockpicks. She was still thoroughly shaken over the guards she’d had a close brush with upstairs, but there was a strange part of her brain that was breaking through the fog that had settled over her in the past year. It was like a small flame, and it made her feel more alive than she had in a long time. The odd feeling helped settle Alanie’s nerves a bit as she focused on her clumsy fingers. She was fairly certain she wasn’t even holding the picks right, but they were inside the lock, and that was progress enough to the inexperienced thief. 

“You know what you’re doing there?” 

A low, cool voice broke through Alanie’s concentration, making her nearly jump out of her skin. The picks clattered against the wooden floor and Alanie whirled around, grabbing the first thing her hand found as she turned. It was sailing through the air before she even realized she’d chosen a pretty pathetic weapon.

There was a solid thunk and a curse and Alanie revelled in the burst of satisfaction when she realized she’d hit the intruder, or at least scared him. A familiar faint blue glow caught her eye and flickered at her, and her heart dropped as she realized who it belonged to. 

“You attacked me with a butter knife.” His voice was flat, and irritated. Alanie blinked several times in astonishment and swallowed rapidly to fight off the dryness in her throat. She needed to remain as calm as the thief before her.

“Did I? Lucky you, then.” Alanie’s eyes adjusted enough to the darkness to make out the thief’s shape, his cape pinned to the door frame by a dull silver utensil. He gave it a hard yank, dislodging it before stalking toward Alanie. The cool, unphased front she was putting on faltered when she took a frightened step back. 

“Are you stupid? What were you thinking, coming here?” The thief stopped a few feet from Alanie, his voice rough, sounding more like a harsh, whispering growl as he waved the dull knife at her.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” The Montonessi girl forced herself to keep her voice low, despite the flash of anger burning through her. “I’m getting that amulet back, like I said I would.” Alanie didn’t know if she was more afraid of the guards she’d taken out upstairs, or this thief. He was quite terrifying, especially now, angry and wielding a butter knife, but she wasn't going to let him scold her like a child. 

“I didn’t mean for you to actually go and get it, yo—”

“You were doubting me?” Alanie hissed, knowing full well this thief had never expected her to do much more than sit and complain. Maybe he’d wanted her to beg for his help so he could go back on his offer to run this job for little to no coin. No thief really ever works for free, after all. Perhaps he’d come to do the job after all, only to wave the amulet in Alanie’s face and then ask for an absurd price to hand it over. She could think of no other logical reason for him to be here. He wanted what she was after.

“Of course I was doubting you!” the Master Thief snarled back.

“Well, I mean what I say, thief!” Alanie almost spat the word like an insult and raised her arms to emphasise where she was standing to make her point. “I made it this far. I’m getting what I came here for, and I’ll fight you tooth and claw if you think you can take it from me.”


	4. Chaper 4: Garrett

Garrett was speechless as the woman turned back to the vault, picking up her lockpicks and jamming them into the lock clumsily. She was stubborn, but she had actually done it. How, Garrett couldn’t figure out, but he was impressed. He’d made his way to Alanie Montonessi’s home as he’d promised Basso and found only her dog, who was less than happy to see him, and her plans. Garrett hurried to the Ridgeway home as quickly as he could from there and found chaos in the yard. At first Garrett thought the worst- Alanie had been caught and was being dragged off by the Watch, but before he turned and left her to her fate, Garrett realized it was nothing but two guards avoiding a loose hound. Sneaking past them wasn’t too difficult, luckily, but Garrett certainly was not expecting the trail of bodies he found inside, confirming that some intruder was here. 

“How did you knock them out?” Garrett came closer to watch Alanie work. He’d checked the bodies for pulses, fearing the worst, but their hearts were all beating strong, and he couldn’t see a single weapon on the girl.

“Chloroform,” Alanie mumbled under her breath as she kept fiddling with the lock, her eyes darting from the picks to Garrett the longer she worked. He couldn’t help but be amused at her obvious embaressment. There was, however, no time to let her struggle on her own. 

“Here, let me.” Garrett shouldered her aside and replaced her lock picks with his own. The vault sprang open before she could protest. He stepped back and replaced his lock picks in his sleeve with an arrogant flourish, leaving Alanie to stare daggers into his back that he could almost feel while he popped the safe and riffled through its contents. 

“Move over, I’m just here for the amulet.” She almost growled under her breath as she reached around Garrett to grab the dark shape he was obviously avoiding in the safe. He had no intention of touching the amulet, it wasn’t his target, and, just as he’d tried to teach Erin, you don’t touch a fellow thief’s loot. 

The thought made him freeze suddenly. 

This woman was not his fellow thief. She was not his friend, she was not working with him, and she was not his apprentice.

Apprentice…

Garrett’s lip curled slightly at the thought of Erin. It wasn’t a grimace of disgust, but more a painful twist of guilt. Guilt over letting her die, and guilt over the way he’d tried to cut ties with her. There was something more, however, and Garrett was slowly realizing just what it was, and he didn’t like it one bit.

This whole outing was reminding him a lot of Erin, before she became the cold blooded killer Garrett had turned away. Maybe he was just getting old and nostalgic, but it felt almost...natural in a way.

He quickly shook the thought off when Alanie let out a sharp gasp. Garrett whipped around, blackjack drawn and prepared for a potential threat, but the room was empty except for him and the Montonessi girl. She stood frozen, eyes blank. In one hand was the velvet bag she had pulled from the safe, and in the other was a silver disk inlaid with a glowing blue stone that made Garrett’s head buzz and a dull ache start to take root deep in his skull.

“What is that?” He narrowed his eyes and took a cautious step back. His words seemed to stir Alaine out of her haze and she hurried to shove the object back in it's pouch before pointing to her wrist, as if she were wearing a watch. 

“We're on the clock- let’s go.” She whipped around and shuffled toward the stairs as she spoke. Her fingers stretched to run over the dent she’d left in the wall with the butter knife and she seemed almost proud for a fleeting moment before she hurried up the stairs. Garrett followed at a much quieter pace. 

Escaping proved to be more complicated than Alanie seemed to have thought it would be, Garrett noted as she paced one of the heavily draped rooms, deep in thought. The shouts of the two guards outside could be heard between the low baying of the hound. He wondered how long it would be before the Ridgeways woke and come down to investigate the commotion. 

“Dogs,” the thief grumbled with distaste. “More trouble than they’re worth.”

“Hey, my dog is not trouble,” Alanie hissed as she carefully moved the edge of a curtain to peek out into the yard. The thick fabric gave way to cast a ray of moonlight over the young woman, outlining her proud profile and the calm, calculating look in her green eyes. 

“Right.” 

Garrett didn’t sound like he thought she was ‘right’ at all, and Alanie threw him a narrowed look, but she didn’t push the topic further. She knew how to pick her fights. Erin would have hissed and spat until she was satisfied rather than let it go, no matter how small the matter was. Instead Alanie focused on planning a way out, the silver amulet that had gotten them into this mess tucked securely into one of her pockets. Garrett had watched how she’d carefully stashed it away, almost like she was reluctant to make contact with it again. He wondered why that was, and why it made his head buzz earlier, but Alanie spoke before he could think to ask questions. 

“If we open the door, the dog comes running in.” She spoke softly, half to herself it seemed. “The guards will still be getting their bearings together …”

“The north gate has an easy spot we can scale.” The thief behind her added to her thoughts as he rummaged around the room, opening drawers quickly with delicate, deft hands. His movements were ghostlike as he snaked his way around the room, his steps careful and precise, putting on a show of how to properly sneak your way through a home. He could feel the Montonessi girl’s eyes on him as he moved. 

“Done staring?” He turned his eyes on her sharply and Alanie jerked her head in the opposite direction, clearly embarrassed at having been caught. 

“Done showing off? I think we have a way out.”

“‘We’?”

“We. As in you and I.” Alanie rolled her eyes in the dark, but Garrett was familiar enough with the head motion that accompanied it to know exactly what the young woman was doing without having to see. 

“Stop right there. I’m here to get you out. I make the plans, and there is no ‘we’, understood?”

Alanie paused for a long moment, her eyes still fixed out the window. Her shoulders raised as she sucked in a deep breath and let out a low, exasperated sound before pulling away from the window, storming past Garrett, past the unconscious guards, and to the back door she’d probably snuck in through.

“What are you—” Garrett began to hiss as she reached for the door handle, his feet scrambling to catch up to Alanie and stop her, but it was too late. She pulled open the door and ducked behind it as a black blur shot blindly through it. Garrett sprang like a cat to dodge the dog and make a mad dash out the door, Alanie close behind. There was a series of shouts behind them as the guards spotted the pair of intruders, but the hooded thieves were already at the north gate by then. The Master Thief cleared the fence in a fluid, catlike bound from ground to crates, over iron and back to solid ground. Alanie was a little bit slower, but she got over the gate before the guards reached them.

“Run!” Garrett hissed and darted into a nearby alley. His lithe form melted into the shadows and left Alanie to scramble after the thief. He could hear her clumsy footfalls behind him, and the cold brick walls surrounding them echoed back the sound of her hitched breathing. Strangely, with all the chaotic shouting, the adrenaline of their little heist, and the escape plan rapidly forming in Garrett’s mind as they ran, the sound of the Montonessi girl’s breathing sat foremost in the thief’s thoughts, almost like everything else were mere background details. It reminded him of the countless escapes he’d made with a very young Erin. Every sound his apprentice would make was an assurance that she was still alive and every stretch of prolonged silence could mean anything. It was probably the only time Garrett prefered something over silence. 

Garrett was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost didn’t notice the long shadows at the end of the alley. Two crisp outlines, swaying subtly with the flicker of torchlight. Their broad shoulders and the distinctive outline of their helmets made it clear that they were trouble. Garrett had to act fast; avoiding them would be easy on his own, especially via the rooftops, but that wasn’t an option with the clumsy Montonessi woman in tow. He made up his mind quickly and tossed his weight back to help him slow down. His thinly soled boots skidded on the ground as he twisted his body around to catch Alanie, who had yet to realize the danger they were running toward. His hand snaked out and clapped around her mouth to stifle any sound she might make as her body collided with his and they both tumbled to the ground with a few muffled sounds of surprise. He held his hand over her mouth firmly and was about to whisper a warning for her to keep quiet, but stopped short when Alanie’s hands began clawing at his arms, then shoving at his chest wildly as she tried to dislodge him. Surprised, Garrett let her go immediately and watched her shadowy form scramble back in the dark. He could make out the whites of her eyes in the dim alley, and they were wide with terror.

Was she suddenly...afraid of Garrett?

He didn’t have time to think this over. The Watch guards he’d spotted further up were rounding the corner and their torchlight would catch the pair of criminals soon if they didn’t move. 

“Quick!” Garrett whispered through his teeth. He pressed himself up against the nearest wall and crouched down to fiddle with a metal grate in the bricks. He had noticed it on the way up the alley, but hadn’t thought it would be a necessary route until now. He uncrewed the grate and hauled it open quickly, not bothering to be as quiet as he’d been earlier. 

“Go, go, go!” He spat as he held it open for Alanie and looked over his shoulder at the guards who’d definitely heard the groaning metal and were picking up their pace to come investigate.   
“Hurry up!” Garrett growled at the Montonessi girl as she crouched and crawled into the dark hole in the wall. The seasoned thief followed close behind, shutting the grate behind them before shoving Alanie to hurry. 

“Stop it!” She hissed over her shoulder. “I-I can’t see!” 

“You don’t have to see!” Garrett snapped. “Just move!” 

Her breathing came in short, rapid breaths as she shuffled forward in the darkness. The metal vent they were crawling through amplified every shaking breath she sucked in and released, and Garrett wondered how much of it was from the running they were doing, and how much of it was the fear he’d seen in her eyes moments ago in the alley. Fear was normal, but what he’d witnessed was something else. She had been so desperate to get Garrett off her. Did she think he’d hurt her? Where was all the confidence and fearlessness she’d displayed from the moment he’d tumbled through her bedroom window?

“Dead end.” Alanie’s voice broke through Garrett’s thoughts. There was thinly veiled panic in her voice and Garrett thought quickly. He’d been here before. It ended somewhere just outside Market Square, if he remembered correctly. 

“Raise your arms.” He tried not to sound uncertain. “Is there a way up?”

“Up?” Alanie sounded uncertain enough for the both of them, but Garrett could see a vague outline of her form reaching over her head. He almost sighed with relief when he didn’t hear her arm thunk on metal, and her body straightened up as she realized she had room to stand. The thief came to join her, more than happy to stand after crawling through the filthy vent. He was close enough to feel Alanie’s breath on his face in the cramped space and he tried to ignore her obvious discomfort, instead focusing on finding a way out. He reached his arms high over his head and felt the walls, hoping to find an opening where the vent continued. The very tips of his fingers found a small ledge. He could probably reach it and haul himself up if he jumped. 

“Here.” Garrett gently tapped the wall under the ledge to show Alanie where he was pointing in the dark. “I’m going to give you a boost up to the vent there.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he crouched down and patted his knee to help guide the young woman in the dark, cramped space. He listened to her shuffle around for a moment before he felt her foot plant itself on his leg. She stood there a moment, gathering her surroundings by touch he guessed before she tried to haul herself up with a grunt of effort. Garrett clasped his hands together and helped her up as far as he could. He looked up into the darkness overhead, listening to Alanie shuffle and struggle, and seeing the barest silhouette of flailing legs in the darkness as she tried to wiggle enough of her upper body into the vent.

“Well?” Garrett was growing irritable in these cramped vents, and it was clear in his voice. 

“Shut up.” Alanie huffed, sounding just as upset, if not more. She struggled for a while longer before there was silence. “I’m up.” She whispered. 

“Make some space.” Garrett knocked on the vent wall again as he spoke and jumped up to position himself so his back was pressed to one wall, and the soles of his boots on the other. He slowly edged himself up along the vent shaft until he reached the opening Alanie had just crawled through. He managed to gracefully pull himself into the cramped space beside her and stopped to look down into the darkness they’d just come from. 

“Let’s keep moving. I want to get out of here.” Alanie sounded like she had begun moving already and Garrett crawled after her. “I feel a breeze, I think.” Garrett squinted as he realized he could clearly see the woman’s silhouette. There were approaching a light source, which meant they were closer to an exit than he thought. 

Good. The sooner he returned Alanie home, the sooner he could pretend this all had never happened. 

“We’re close. I need to get past you.” Garrett reached over to knock on the vent wall to let Alanie know he was on her right and she squeezed as far left as she could to let Garrett worm his way past to take the lead. He felt uneasy with her behind him when they finally made it to the end of the vent and the thief drew a hand tool from his belt to loosen the rusty bolts on the grate. The slatted metal came open with a loud creak and a groan that made Garrett freeze and listen. He was still for a long moment before he was satisfied that the noise hadn’t attracted any unwanted attention. 

“Listen carefully and be quiet.” Garrett ordered as he slipped out of the vent and held the grate open for Alanie. He closed it slowly and motioned toward a small alley. “Avoid the light and head in there. I’ll scout ahead and be back.” 

“Wait, you’re leav-” Alanie began, but Garret silenced her with a glare.

“I said listen carefully, and be quiet.” Garrett jerked his thumb toward the alley again and Alanie let out a short huff before nodding and slinking off in the direction he’d pointed. Satisfied that she’d be out of trouble, Garrett headed the opposite way, watching and listening for signs of the Watch. They weren’t far from Alanie’s home, but there always seemed to be more guards here than Garrett liked. He could see torchlights moving in the distance, but decided it was safe enough for Alanie, and if they didn’t move now, they would be out here until the sun rose. 

Garrett hurried back to where he’d left Alanie, startling her when he called to her from the shadows. “We have to be quick. Do you have a backdoor into your home?”

“No.” Alanie patted her pockets quickly and drew a key. “Just the front door.” 

“Stay alert and stay close.” Garrett jerked his chin in the direction they were going and set a brisk, but cautious pace through the alleyways and back streets of the City, ducking behind any cover they could find when he thought there was danger. 

“How do you manage to walk the streets at night and not get caught?” Alanie whispered behind him as they crouched behind a molding crate.

“There’s other ways to get around the City.” Garrett’s tone was dismissive and his eyes stayed trained on the guard passing by them. As soon as the Watchguard's lamp light disappeared around a corner, the pair of criminals darted across the street, quickly making their way to Alanie’s door. Garrett stopped and kept watch as she turned the key in the lock and ushered him into her home. The door closed and they both seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Alanie darted to the window to make sure the curtains were completely drawn. She searched around in the dark for a moment and lit a lamp, then set it down carefully on her table, watching the long flame dance within its glass prison until she seemed to gather the courage to finally look at Garrett, who was watching the Montonessi girl through narrowed eyes. She met his glare with one of her own and finally broke the silence.

“Remind me again why you came for me.” 

Alanie’s voice was irritable and winded as she pulled off her scarf and fell into her couch. Skylar emerged from another room to follow close beside her master’s feet. Garrett begun pacing the room slowly, eyes darting toward Alanie as he thought long and hard over the events of the last hour or so. The Montonessi family were not of very high class until Randall Montonessi’s paintings began to take a peculiar turn that the City’s morbid aristocrats took an interest in. Garrett remembered the City’s fascination with the odd creatures he painted, part human, part animal, and the fortune that the artist quickly began to amass for his family. Alanie must have been raised in luxury, not in the small home she lived in now. A wealthy woman like herself had no need to learn any of what she displayed tonight. 

“Where did you learn all of that?” He brushed her off with his own question.

“All of what?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Garrett snapped. “You’ve already made it quite clear that you’re not. How did you know where the safe would be? How did you knock out those guards and know what the dog would do? And where did you learn to throw a knife?” 

The Master Thief held up his cape to show off the slit Alanie had made in it, as if to emphasize his words.

“The knife, I taught myself. I refuse to live in a city like this one and not know how to defend myself.” Alanie kicked her boots off and stretched in the plush seat, perfectly at ease.

“I’m familiar with the architecture in the homes here, aristocrats seem to prefer the same architects, and what I don’t know I find out through careful observation. Sometimes it takes months of picking up clues and such, but I can figure a place out pretty well. The same with the dog’s schedule.” 

Alanie shrugged.

“The guards were unexpected, though.”

Garrett stopped his pacing to look over at Alanie carefully. “You’re not what I was expecting.” He admitted simply. “You’ve got talent, but you’re stupid. You went in almost blind, not even know how to pick a lock, or how you would escape. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t found you when I did? How would you have gotten yourself back home?”

Alanie lowered her eyes and opened her mouth to reply, but the thief cut her off.

“You would’ve spent hours there, trying to pick that safe open, and by then the chloroform would have worn off the guards and they would have hunted you down and run you through.” His voice was a rough, low growl that visibly shook Alanie. “Talent will only get you so far, so don’t go thinking you’re a thief now.” He stared her down, making sure his words stuck and he’d frighten her into never attempting something like this again. 

“Wait,” Alanie’s eyes lit up mischievously, “are you afraid of some friendly competition?”

Garrett narrowed his eyes, making it clear that he wasn’t amused by her.

“You wouldn’t be much competition if you’re dead, now would you?”

“Are you threatening to kill me now? That definitely sounds like you’re afraid I’ll get better at this than you.” She didn’t seem fazed by Garrett’s dark words, in fact, she seemed to be making a game of this. 

“I’m not threatening you, I’m calling you clumsy.” Garrett snapped. “You don’t know what you’re doing out there, and you’re reckless.” He felt a pang of something unfamiliar as the words left his mouth. He’d said them before.

“Well, what if you taught me?” Garrett had to stare hard into Alanie’s face to realize she was being serious. He blinked slowly as he took her in, from her long, careful curls, to her large, baggy clothing that looked like a costume on her slender frame. She didn’t look like a thief. She looked like a soft, wealthy woman who’d grown bored with her life.

“That’s out of the question.” Garrett gave a single, sharp shake of his head, leaving no room for argument. As the words left his mouth, however, he couldn’t help but also notice the shiny, pink scar along Alanie’s throat, and the hard, wary look hiding behind her fiery green eyes. She was more than the soft girl he’d taken her for the night prior, but could he really take her on as an apprentice after how Erin had turned out?

Garrett sighed irritably at himself. Why did he keep thinking about her? Alanie didn’t seem to be anything like his former apprentice, yet Garrett couldn’t help but think back to the young woman. Thoughts of her always came with regret and guilt, and despite it having been over a year since the accident, the wound was still fresh to the seasoned thief. He hadn’t had the time to properly mourn, and it made his heart ache to think that no one else was mourning for her. Had Erin had anyone else in her life? An associate, or a friend, aside from Basso, who was just as confused as Garrett, if not more. He’d taught Erin to not stick around too long, and not to make many friends, but Garrett had hoped she hadn’t followed his teachings in that department, like she’d chosen to do in many others. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Alanie’s voice drew Garrett from the dark place he’d begun to retreat into in his mind and his eyes snapped back to her. He’d been so lost in thought, she must have said something he hadn’t caught before. Her eyes held genuine concern at they regarded Garrett, and he squirmed under her gaze. 

“I’m fine. I just need to think.”


	5. 5: Garrett/Alanie

“Okay, Garrett, you’ve officially lost your mind.”

 

Basso shook his head as he slammed down a bottle of cheap wine he’d been nursing. The damp air in the boxman’s cellar was alive with the sound of dancing footsteps and braying patrons in the tavern over their heads, and Garrett himself was in a rare, uplifted mood.

 

“She’s got the talent, Basso. I was reluctant at first, but she’s interested in learning, and I’m ready for another apprentice. Maybe I can put a better thief on the streets than I did the first time.” 

 

Garrett’s voice dropped to a half whisper at the last part and his brows furrowed at his own words. He didn’t mean to speak ill of Erin. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than what she got. 

 

_ “Garrett, I’m slipping!” _  His mind went back to that night. To the last words he ever heard her utter, and to the fear in her voice and eyes. 

 

“I miss her too, Garrett.” Basso’s voice softened. “That girl’s choices weren’t your fault, though. If you’re doing this because of what happened to Erin—”

 

“I’m doing this because she has talent, and she’s willing to learn,” Garrett cut him off quickly, wanting to move past the topic of Erin. “She infiltrated the house, took out a servant and two guards without hurting them and actually reached her goal.” He left out the fact that Alanie couldn’t open the safe, or probably wouldn’t have been able to make it home in one piece, but he figured Basso was worried enough as it was. 

 

“Two guards?” Basso’s eyes went wide. “Alanie Montonessi? You’ve got to be mistaken, Garrett. Al just isn’t the kind of gal …” His voice trailed off as he read into Garrett’s flat expression.  “Y-you’re serious … but  _ how? _ ”

 

“Chloroform. She’s clever. Seemed to have known the house and its schedule like she’d lived there.” Garrett almost sounded like he was admiring her work, and looked away sheepishly when Basso caught it too. 

 

“Damn …” The boxman seemed almost overwhelmed with everything, from finding out what Alanie Montonessi was capable of, to the news of Garrett taking an interest in her. Basso shook his head, wiped a grimy hand down his face, and checked the smudged label on his bottle. “I need to lay off the sauce or get something stronger. That sweet girl suddenly turns into a clever minx? I didn’t see it coming.”

 

“What happened with her father, I’m sure it’s enough to harden anyone.” Garrett shrugged and wandered the boxman’s storeroom idly before coming to a stop a few feet from Basso. “He nearly killed her, no?” Garrett’s tone was aloof and he hoped Basso was inebriated enough that his friend’s lips would loosen about the Montonessi girl’s past.

 

Basso raised his brows at Garrett as if surprised at his uncharacteristic interest, or his lack of knowledge. Garrett’s jaw clenched as he fought to keep from looking guilty for so blatantly prying into this woman’s past, though it did seem that the City already knew these things about her, and if he was going to work with her, shouldn’t he know a thing or two about her first?

 

“Looking for gossip, now, Garrett? I have something else I need to talk to you about.” Basso was obviously uncomfortable talking about Alanie. Did he not know? Was her past some big secret? It didn’t seem likely, seeing as half the City seemed to know about Mr. Montonessi’s mental break. 

 

“I’m curious,” Garrett pried further. 

 

“You know what they say about curiosity,” the boxman shot back.

 

“Indulge me.”

 

Basso regarded Garrett for a moment longer, as if wondering how long the thief could keep this up. He finally raised his arms in surrender and sighed heavily.

 

“You remember Randall Montonessi? Used to come to the Burrick often, years back.” Basso pointed over his head as he spoke, to all the buzz in the bar overhead.

 

“I know his name, but can’t say I remember him, particularly.” Garrett shook his head, but motioned for Basso to continue.

 

“He once hired you to steal a painting from that Tavish artist.” Basso waved his hand, almost like he was flipping through an invisible book to bring up something Garrett remembered. 

 

“Ah.” Garrett always remembered a job, and he remembered Lyra Tavish. She was just gaining popularity at the time for the dark, risque women she painted, and it was right after the disappearance of one of her unfinished works that Randall Montonessi rose in popularity with his first painting in his series The Court of Montonessi.  _ The Dangers of Seduction _ was built atop the unfinished painting stolen from Tavish. Lyra had painted the bare bust of a woman, but it was Montonessi who had added the head of a tiger upon her pale shoulders and signed his name, claiming it as his own. It caused an uproar from Tavish, and a feud that Garrett was sure lasted to Montonessi’s dying breath. Garrett remembered Randall’s depressive stoop at the tavern, the lost look in his eyes. The thief hadn’t recognized the look for what it was, at the time. He’d been so much younger then, but now he knew it was the look of a man who was struggling. Alanie was probably quite young at the time, too. That painting had been a turning point for the whole Montonessi family. 

 

“Well,” Basso continued, “he’d stopped coming here after he started getting famous. Moved on to, er,  _ nicer establishments _ , ya know? But shortly after you went missing, he started coming back. It was all fun at first, he paid well and drank this watered down piss without complaining.” The boxman waved his bottle in the air briefly before pausing to take a drink. “He wasn’t quite right, always carried around this amulet, checked it constantly, like a watch almost, and he only seemed to be further unhinged every time I saw him. First time I set eyes on Alanie, she was upstairs, trying to drag him back home.” Basso was looking at the ceiling above, lost in thought. “Burrick was no place for a girl like her.” The words were barely a murmur on the boxman’s lips and Garrett strained to listen. “Alanie was different before all this.”

 

Garrett gave Basso a moment to sit down on a stool and wet his palate with another sip of cheap wine before he continued. Despite being uncomfortable with the topic, Basso was obviously enjoying keeping Garrett’s attention. He’d always enjoyed story telling, and the attention that came with it. 

 

“One day, he didn’t show up like he normally did. Alanie came by to collect him, but he wasn’t here. Poor girl was frantic, promised me she would head straight home, and she did. Guess he was waiting there for her.” Basso sighed and took a long pull from the bottle. He seemed to search for his next words for a long moment. “Heard the next day that he’d murdered his wife, and his two young boys, and when Alanie got there, he’d killed her too. I spent a week thinking she was dead.” He took his index finger and pressed it to the corner of his jaw, then ran it down to almost his collarbone. “Next time I saw her she had a line of stitches here and a dead look in her eyes.” The boxman’s gaze was distant, almost angry. “He cut her open and tried to jam that damned, cursed amulet in her throat. Watch arrived in time to get him off of her, but they left her to bleed out while they carted that bastard off to Moira Asylum’s finest room. It was the beggars who helped Alanie. Their queen took her in, nursed her back to health, and made sure she never had to go back to that place.”

 

Garrett was quiet for a long while as he took in what Basso had told him. He wondered if he’d ever hear this story from Alanie herself. Erin had a past thick with secrets that Garrett never got to know. He almost felt a little guilty at having pried into such a personal, traumatic event in the Montonessi girl’s past before he’d even gotten to really know her. 

 

This definitely explained Alanie’s fascination with the amulet, however, and how uncomfortable she seemed with it upon having found it. He felt better knowing he had locked it away from Alanie, at least until she figured out how to pick her cupboard lock. This also explained the terrified outburst she’d displayed in the alley, when Garrett had practically held her down and covered her mouth. His brows furrowed and a fresh wave of guilt came rushing through him. He’d be sure to be more mindful in the future, but could this be something that could affect her training as a thief?

 

“You said the Queen of Beggars took care of her?” Garrett leaned back on a nearby wall. The Queen and her beggars had found him as well after the accident, but Garrett could only go based off of what the Queen had told him of his recovery—he didn’t remember any of it. One moment he was falling through glass into Baron Northcrest’s manor, and the next he was waking up in a cart on the streets of the City. He’d been missing a whole year and hadn’t even known it. 

 

“Yeah.” Basso nodded. “A week or two after the accident and she was already up and around. They couldn’t keep her trapped at the chapel forever, so she spent a lot of time here. She waitressed for awhile, but, you know how it is …” Basso made a groping motion in the air and Garrett wrinkled his nose with distaste. “No place for a girl like her,” he repeated. “I let her hang out around here with her dog, and she started teaching me about architecture. History, famous drafters, the works, ya know? Turns out she was finding things in blueprints that I wasn’t. Narrow space in the walls, probably a hiding spot. Certain architect designed it? You can bet it’s probably no different from the last one he designed if it was from the last five years or so. Little things like that that made a big difference for whoever picked up the job later. She can plan the best ways in and out, fastest route to wherever in the building the thief needs to be. Makes jobs look easier, they get picked up faster, makes me some coin, and she seems to be having a good time doing it, so I let her stay. Had to make money somehow with you gone and all, right?” Basso pressed his lips together in a straight line pensively while Garrett thought. “If you think she’d make a better thief, and if she  _ wants _ this … I guess I can’t stop either of you, but you better not get her killed, Garrett. That’s all I’ve gotta say. Start off small.”

 

“I know how to train a thief, Basso. I won’t get her killed.” _Not like Erin,_ Garrett thought to himself bitterly. He’d found out what he wanted about his new associate, it was time to see what Basso had called him here for in the first place. “Now, what else did you need?” 

 

“Oh, yes!” Basso perked up in a new tone, almost like their previous topic had never come up. “C’mon.” The fence motioned for Garrett to follow him as he stood up and left the storeroom. He headed for the Stonemarket gate with Garrett close behind. “Someone wants to meet you.” 

 

“Why me?” Garrett didn’t feel right about this sudden turn of events but kept pace anyway, despite the heavy weight that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Much like it had the night of the accident.

 

“Oh, your jolly nature? Your engaging conversation? I dunno! He’s the guy you stole the ring for. You must’ve impressed him.”

 

“Who is he?” Garrett was growing more and more uneasy as he followed Basso through the dark back streets. Returning customers weren’t uncommon, but this secrecy, an unknown meeting place, and wanting to actually meet Garrett himself was certainly not common. He wanted to turn back and tell Basso he wasn’t interested, but he had some measure of trust in his old friend. Would he lead Garrett into danger? It wasn’t likely. 

 

“He’s Orion. One guy standing up against the Baron. Sticking up for normal people like you and me …” The boxman hesitated for a moment and threw Garrett a look over his shoulder. “well, me, anyway.” Basso chuckled softly under his breath and stopped for a moment before continuing to lead. “He speaks a lot of sense. Fucking rarity in this place!” 

 

_ Great, _ Garrett thought sarcastically.  _ Everyone loves a freedom fighter. _ The thought of leaving crossed his mind again, but it was too late. The round boxman came to a stop before a heavy wooden door and pounded his fist against it. No time seemed to pass before a peek flap snapped open to reveal a dirty, hooded face and untrusting eyes that looked from Basso to Garrett fleetingly before the door unlatched and swung open, spilling bright torchlight into the alley. Garrett recoiled from the light instinctively, but Basso continued ahead without a problem. He’d obviously been here before.

 

“He’s down here helping the poor sods who’ve got the Gloom. It’s nice to see someone putting their money where their mouth is.” Garrett’s face was expressionless as Basso waddled through the door. “And um … try not to be too, you know …” Basso waved his hand at Garrett with a sarcastic flourish, “ _ you _ . We need this.” 

 

Garrett wasn’t going to grace Basso’s words with a response. He didn’t like this one bit, but the door closed behind them, leaving the alley they’d come from dark and silent once more.

 

 

 

~

 

 

The blue stone set into the amulet glowed faintly as Alanie turned the silver disk over and over again in her fingers, her mind deep in the dark, warm place it went to when she was absorbed in her thoughts. Gregory Ridgeway had paid more coin than Alanie ever thought the amulet was worth, yet he hadn’t bothered to clean it. Small flakes of dried blood rose from the details carved into the silver as Alanie ran a fingernail through the tiny designs. She shuddered as she let herself briefly remember that evening almost a year ago. Nearly two months after her family’s death, The Queen of Beggars had handed Alanie the same small velvet pouch.

 

“I wanted to wait until you seemed better …  _ equipped _ to receive this,” the woman’s frail voice had murmured over tea. She reached out a trembling hand to Alanie, her blind, milky eyes looking right into the last Montonessi’s soul. She’d known what it was as the thick, matted velvet touched her hands. Dark rust colored spots marred the grey surface. It reeked of iron and death and Alanie dropped it immediately, her stomach rolling and threatening to heave up its contents. It fell into her empty teacup with a soft clink of china and Alanie had fought to keep her breathing steady, like the Queen of Beggars had taught her that first month, when Alanie would wake screaming and unable to breathe. Her night terrors had only gotten progressively worse, following her out from the night and into her days. She didn’t need to be asleep anymore to have nightmares. 

 

Looking at the pouch now, Alanie finally understood why Ridgeway paid so much for it—the same reason her father’s paintings had become so popular. The wealthy class of the City seemed utterly fascinated with the dark and morbid. After her father’s descent into madness, and later his death, his paintings only grew in price and demand. Alanie had sold the family home, every painting from The Court of Montonessi within it, and finally, the amulet. The buyers were all taken with the thought of owning something that had anything to do with the crazed artist. The backs of some of the paintings were scrawled with wild letters, penned in blood. Those sold the fastest. 

 

The carpets of the Montonessi home had never been cleaned after the horror that happened within its walls. The bodies had been taken and laid to rest, but nothing more had been disturbed. Alanie had not set foot within its walls since the day her family died, but the whole City seemed to buzz with all the gorey details Alanie had either lived, or never wanted to know. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse inside before it sold. 

 

Then there was the amulet that had been lodged in her wound, still covered in her blood. Alister Ridgeway had paid almost as much for it as Alanie had received for the house, and she had been more than happy to part with it at the time. 

 

Now she held the amulet, covered in the dried blood of the last living Montonessi. It was the amulet that had started her father into madness. 

 

_ It’ll lead to your madness too, if you’re not careful,  _ Alanie thought to herself.

 

As if sensing her mistress’ distress, Skylar rose from where she had been dozing on the living room rug and padded toward Alanie. Her wide paws thudded lightly with each step, reminding Alanie of her own noisy shuffling the night before.

 

“Hello there, sweet girl.” 

 

Alanie smiled fondly at the dog and twined her fingers through her thick, white fur and over her velvety ears. She bent down to plant a kiss between the docile creature’s grey eyes and inhaled the familiar scent that clung to her fur. 

 

Skylar had been a constant in Alanie’s life for a long time now, and the bond between the two was unbreakable. When Alanie was upset, Skylar was always there to comfort her. She always had been, since she was nothing more than a squealing puppy, dropped into Alanie’s lap with a velvet bow around her neck on the girl’s nineteenth birthday. After they took her in, the beggars had found Skylar roaming the streets, dirty, matted, and starved. Their reunion was the first spark of joy Alanie had felt in what felt a lifetime. 

 

It was nearly two days since the thief had agreed to give some thought to taking Alanie on as his apprentice. Her mind kept going back to the way he’d leaned across her table with the most intense look in his eyes as he scrutinized her, questioned her, then reluctantly nodded. 

 

“You know this won’t be easy, right?” His brows had been deeply furrowed. 

 

“I know,” Alanie had replied steadily, somehow holding the thief’s gaze. She could hardly make eye contact with herself in a mirror. She wasn’t sure where this boldness had come from. 

 

He’d stood very still for a long moment before breaking away to open her kitchen cupboard. He placed a small, familiar object on one of the shelves inside and Alanie realized with a jolt that it was the amulet she’d recklessly risked her life to get back not two hours earlier. The thief had locked the cupboard, pocketed the key, and left his own set of lockpicks on her kitchen table before he’d bid her a goodnight and disappeared like smoke, leaving Alanie to figure out how he’d gotten the amulet from her pocket in the first place. 

 

“Practice your lockpicking. I’ll see you soon,” had been the only indicator that she’d be seeing him again at all. 

 

Alanie had spent the next hour fiddling with the lock and cursing the damned thief, whose name she didn’t even know. She tried everything that seemed right, then everything that didn’t. Raking the picks through the lock quickly, then slowly instead as she listened to each tiny click the picks made as she dug deeper into the lock. Her hands were nowhere near as deft as the strange thief’s, and definitely not as familiar with a lock. How did he expect her to know how to open anything with these, just like that? Wasn’t he supposed to  _ teach _ her? Her eyes were blurring with exhaustion when the finer of the picks finally snapped under the pressure Alanie was applying to try to force the lock. She’d bunched her fists together and cursed through her teeth.

 

Alanie was just preparing to break into her cupboard a different way when she realized that the thief was probably trying to drive her away before her training had even begun. It felt like the most logical explanation. Or perhaps he was trying to keep her busy? He couldn’t possibly expect her to teach herself to pick a lock with a single set of lock picks, could he? She gave up with a heavy sigh and abandoned the cupboard in search of her bed. She’d been through so much in the past few hours alone—Alanie needed to rest, despite the loud clamoring in her mind. Mostly questions she wanted to ask the thief, starting with his name, but also thoughts of the future. How much would this change her life? Would she be able to keep up with him, and if so, for how long? Alanie hardly slept, wondering if the thief would return and swoop in through her window to see if she’d managed to get to her amulet or not. She swore she’d pummel him the next time he showed up. 

 

Or was she supposed to go find him? What if he decided against training her? Would she ever see him again to find out?

 

Alanie woke often at the smallest of sounds for hours after she had slipped into bed, but after sleep fully claimed her, it kept her in its dark claws until late morning. Bright sunlight streamed through her bedroom window, stirring her from an unpleasant dream. A glance out through the foggy glass displayed the busy street below her bedroom, and the clock tower above.

 

The clock on the wall indicated that it was almost eleven in the morning, and Alanie had things to do and a normal life to go about as best she could. She pulled on a worn blue dress that covered the leather boots she’d grown awfully fond of, tamed her wild curls into a loose bun, and headed into the City with Skylar at her heels.

 

“Morning, Miss Montonessi.” A deep but kind voice caught her off guard as Alanie was locking her door. She whipped around with a gasp, making the man step back in surprise. Alanie’s mind reeled as she remembered the guards at Ridgeway Manor just the night prior as they squirmed and grunted beneath her, and her heart raced as she looked into the eyes of the Watchman before her.

 

“Miss?” The guard took a careful step toward Alanie. Skylar growled a warning.

 

“I-I’m sorry.” Alanie laughed softly to cover up her nervousness and grabbed a fistful of fur on Skylar’s scruff, warning the beast to settle down. Any other guard would have threatened to run the dog through for less. “I’ve been so jumpy lately. Good morning, Robert.” 

 

The guard’s eyes lit up at his name, as if he couldn’t believe Alanie had remembered it. Of course she did. Robert had spent the past few months going out of his way to cross paths with Alanie, and as kind as he seemed, she never seemed to be able to relax in his presence. 

 

“No need to be jumpy, Miss. Nothing is going to happen on these streets as long as the Watch is patrolling them,” he assured her gently. His tone and the way he looked at Alanie was almost patronizing. The same way most in the cityzens who recognized her seemed to eye her. It was no secret how easily she frightened, but it was a little different with Robert. There was always guilt in his eyes, beneath everything else. He’d been one of the first guards who’d arrived the night her father snapped. He had helped pull him off of her, and had held his own handkerchief to her throat with trembling hands to try to staunch her bleeding. Alanie didn’t quite know what happened after that, but she knew it wasn’t him who’d ultimately helped her. Robert had left, like the rest of the Watch.

 

Alanie pulled a small smile for Robert and he returned it eagerly, extending his elbow for her to take. 

 

“Are you on your way to the market? I can accompany you, if you like.” His offer was genuine, but it made Alanie stiffen for a moment. Her fingers curled in to press her nails into her palms. Skylar poked her wet nose into Alanie’s fist almost demandingly until she loosened her grip on herself long enough to bury her fingers in Skylar’s fur instead.

 

Men made Alanie uncomfortable. Particularly men who could easily loom over her the way Robert could. She’d managed to make herself stop avoiding them the way she used to, and even took up a short relationship with the taxidermist’s boy from Baron’s Way South after she’d settled into her apartment. That crazy sod was an obsessive man that seemed to thrive off the pain of anyone he could inflict it on, which in most cases were animals. He’d tried to sweep her off her feet with twisted poetry about his misery and pain, and how it matched her own. She’d tried to seek some comfort in him however she could, but there simply wasn’t any to find in that boy. 

 

“That’s a very kind offer, Robert, but won’t you get in trouble with your captain if he finds you wandering around with a woman?” Alanie managed a level tone as she raked her fingers through Skylar’s fur. “I’d really hate if you got in trouble.” 

 

“I actually haven’t seen my captain in a few hours.” Robert chuckled and awkwardly lowered the elbow he’d offered. “He’s probably off napping, or something. Besides, it’s the Watch’s duty to ensure the safety of the City’s people, so seeing you safely to the market shouldn’t warrant a write up, I’d say.” 

 

Alanie pressed her lips together and continued working her fingers through Skylar’s fur as she tried to come up with an answer. Her face grew unbearably warm despite the brisk air and she gulped down a breath of air to try to steady herself. Robert spoke before she could. 

 

“It’s busy at the market,” his voice was low and it dipped down further as he continued, “and I know you don’t do too well in crowds. I’m just trying to help.” He dropped his eyes to the pavers under his boots, looking almost as uncomfortable as Alanie was. “You don’t have to hold my arm or anything.”

 

His sincerity was unmistakable, and Alanie realized that she could probably benefit from having Robert around while she ran her errands. She collected herself enough to nod and thank him and he seemed to perk up when he realized Alanie had given in and accepted his company. 

“Great! You lead and I’ll be close behind, if that makes you more comfortable.”

 

“That’s ok, Robert. We can walk together.” Alanie smiled at him, though her eyes were still lowered. “How else are we supposed to hold a conversation?” 

**Author's Note:**

> StarlightLion coined the term "Cityzens" for the people of the City, and I absolutely love it! Be sure to check them out!  
> Also, my amazing editor/beta reader Haethel deserves all the love in the world! Go check out their page as well!


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